The Way We Were
by sd freek
Summary: Gabriella has finally found the one. He's smart, handsome and completely willing to marry her. There's just one small problem. Her estranged husband isn't quite ready to admit their marriage is over and is willing to do anything to win her back. Troyella.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical. Obviously. **

Had she known who was on the other side of the door, Gabriella wouldn't have opened it. Instead she would have stayed in bed, systematically destroying her wedding photos. But it was too late now. The minute she opened the door Troy had wedged his foot in the doorway and forced himself inside. Now he sat on the sofa, staring at his shoes and rubbing his wedding ring. Gabriella stood opposite him on the other side of the room, leaning against the doorframe. After a minute of silence, Gabriella grew irritated.

"Why are you here?" she asked, meaning to sound angry, but instead her voice came out as a barely intelligible whisper. Troy looked up at the sound of her voice. He suddenly noticed the large gap between them.

"Aren't you gonna come sit down?" he asked awkwardly.

"I'm fine here," she replied stoically.

"Oh…okay."

The couple lapsed into another silence. Gabriella shifted uncomfortably and began to inspect her bare feet. It took a moment for her to realise that she too was rubbing the spot where her wedding ring should be. Hastily she shoved her hands behind her back and cleared her throat loudly.

"Well?" she asked, her voice regaining some of its familiar strength.

"I'm leaving Albuquerque," Troy said cautiously, he looked up at Gabriella, scanning her face for some sort of reaction.

"What? Why?" Gabriella asked, mentally cringed at the alarm in her voice.

"There's a chance I could play pro in LA."

"Oh…right."

"Nothing's set in stone, y'know? But…they wanna talk and see me play and stuff. They probably won't even take me-"

"Of course they'll take you," Gabriella interrupted. "You're a greater player."

"Yeah," Troy said with a nervous laugh, "me and every other basketball player in the country."

"They don't wanna see every other basketball player play," Gabriella countered with an amused smile on her face; she had always found Troy's insecurities strange.

"You really think I can make it?" he asked, watching her curiously. "Even after…what happened," he added. The mention of _that _night brought Gabriella back down to Earth. For a moment she had begun to feel genuinely happy for him.

"You may not be able to keep it zipped," Gabriella said pointedly, smirking as Troy flinched, "but you're not too bad when it comes to throwing that ball."

Troy seemed to find comfort in her praise. He smiled to himself, forgetting all about her previous comment.

"Thanks."

Gabriella looked away, not quite sure how she was supposed to reply.

The couple fell into another silence. Troy watched Gabriella. She wasn't wearing any make-up. Her hair was pulled back into a loose, messy ponytail and her baggy tracksuit was doing nothing for her figure, but she still looked beautiful. Troy had never felt so stupid. If he'd gone to visit his parents like he told her, she wouldn't be standing on the other side of the room, completely out of his reach.

**FLASHBACK**

"I'm gonna go watch the game with my dad," Troy had called over his shoulder as he left the small apartment the couple shared. It had been a shameful lie but Troy had taken the short walk to the bar around the corner feeling guilt free. He needed some time to himself and that was something he would never get if he were honest.

"Oh. My. God."

It had only been a year but it took him a minute to place her.

Cheryl Harding. Cheerleader.

She stood with one hand on her heart, as if she were truly overcome by shock. Her jaw hung open. The faint precursors of a giddy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"I don't believe it; Troy Bolton!" she squealed as she slid, uninvited, onto the stool next to him. Troy couldn't help but be slightly annoyed. He had gone to the bar in pursuit of some quite reflection, but once again, he found himself confronted with an eager reminder of his past.

Cheryl nattered on about her life. Troy had smiled and nodded politely, a small part of him desperate to uphold the Mr. Friendly person he had back in High School whilst she repeatedly told him just how shocked she was to see him there. Everyone knew that he had decided to go to U of A, but every single ex-east high student still had a heart attack at the sight of him in Albuquerque.

Gradually he found himself warming towards her. Troy suddenly remembered that he used to have a bit of a crush on her. It was before he became captain of the basketball team and the epitome of popularity. His mediocre social standings and messy break up with her best friend meant he didn't really get much of a chance. Before long they were talking about East High and the accomplishments or scandalous activities of their former classmates.

Eventually she asked him about Gabriella. They always did.

"How's the wife?" she asked slyly, She had the same amused look on her face as everyone else who made the same enquiry. Troy realised that just like all the others, she thought his marriage was ridiculous.

Troy had already guzzled down a couple of drinks before Cheryl arrived and had graciously downed the few she had brought him. It was probably why he suddenly felt compelled to tell Cheryl everything. He told her about the trivial arguments and the crazy mood swings. The ridiculous curfews she imposed on him and her insane need for control.

He started rambling, blurting out embarrassing and private accounts of marital life. Cheryl blinked. She was only 19; she didn't know much about marriage. But she did know about controlling relationships. She put a hand comfortingly on his cheek.

"I hate being married," Troy moaned quietly, just loud enough for Cheryl to hear.

"It's just one of those…marriage things," she improvised. Troy nodded dumbly but he didn't look convinced. He looked so sad that Cheryl couldn't resist. A part of her had always had a soft spot for Troy. She had been about to make her move when Gabriella Montez arrived. One minute he was playing basketball and going to parties, the next he was auditioning for musicals and taking Gabriella for picnics. Cheryl had always thought that he deserved better. So she kissed him.

'In you face Montez' she couldn't help but think with a grin, as Troy kissed her back.

**END OF FLASHBACK**

"So what happens now?" Troy asked, breaking the silence.

"I don't know."

"Do you wanna…like, get a divorce?" Troy asked cautiously. Gabriella's head snapped up and Troy could tell by the horrified look in her eyes that he'd said the wrong thing.

"Do you?" she asked incredulously.

"No, no!" he said quickly, standing up and closing the distance between them. He stopped awkwardly in front of her, judging by the panicked expression on her face, the hug he was hoping for was out of the question. "I just…I thought that maybe it was what you wanted."

"I'm Catholic," she said stiffly, pressing herself against the wall in a futile attempt to widen the gap between them.

"So you wanna…work things out?" Troy asked hopefully.

"I…I don't know."

"Because we can! We can work things out. You, me and LA, it'd be great!"

"LA?" Gabriella asked weakly.

"Yeah…you - you're gonna come with me right?"

"I…I don't think so," Gabriella murmured.

"But it's LA! We can get away from here, from Cheryl, from everything. It would be like starting all over again," Troy said desperately. He put his hands on her arms. "Don't you wanna start again?"

Gabriella shifted uncomfortably under the physical contact.

"Maybe it's for the best if we didn't. It's not like you being a big star is gonna help you keep your hands to yourself."

"Oh."

Troy pulled his hands away awkwardly and took a step back. He put his hands in his pockets and stared on the floor.

"So you just wanna…end it," he said sadly.

"Yeah."

"But you don't wanna get divorced?" Troy asked sceptically.

"I'm Catholic."

"Right. Of course…i…I guess I better get going."

"Ok."

Gabriella saw Troy to the door. He shuffled dejectedly down the hallway with his hands in his pockets. As she watched him open the door, Gabriella almost felt sorry for him. He paused at the door and turned to face her.

"I probably won't come back y'know. From LA I mean. I'm staying there, no matter what happens," Troy mumbled.

"Forever?"

"Forever," Troy confirmed before stepping outside and closing the door behind him.

Gabriella couldn't help but get the feeling that he was serious.

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_**Seven years later**_

"Hello?"

"What the hell is this?"

"Hi Troy."

"I'm serious. You got one too right, what's going on?"

"Care to elaborate? I can't exactly see whatever it is you're talking about."

"The party invitation."

"You're going to have to be more specific than that. I'm a popular person. I get a lot of invites."

"The one from _Gabriella_."

"Oh…that one."

"Did you get it?"

"Yeah."

"…"

"…"

"And? What's going on?"

"Have you read the invitation? I think it's pretty self explanatory."

"Yeah but it's not possible."

"And why is that?"

"Why do you think? She can't get married to that guy."

"Why not? I think he's quite nice."

"You've met him?"

"Yeah…"

"When?"

"Last year."

"How long have they been together?"

"I don't know… A while. Maybe a few years."

"A few years! Why didn't you tell me she was seeing someone?"

"You never asked."

"Do you think it's serious?"

"Troy…they're engaged. How serious do you _think_ it is?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's just a joke."

"Well it's not…obviously."

"What's he like? He…he doesn't play basketball does he?"

"No…"

"Does he sing? Oh god he's on Broadway or something like that isn't he."

"Ew, no way. He's an architect or a lawyer or something like that."

"He's smart? Like Gabriella smart?"

"Yes Troy…he is fairly intelligent. Why do you even care anyway?"

"I don't…"

"Yeah, right. Listen I have a call on the other line. I guess I'll see you at the party."

"What? Sharpay wait! You haven't told me what he looks like."

"I'm hanging up now Troy."

"Wait! Has he got blue eyes?"

"Toodles!"

"Sharpay answer the-"

Troy growled in frustration as the phone went dead. He had resorted to calling Sharpay Evans, of all people, to find out the details of Gabriella's relationship. He had already tried Chad, Taylor and Ryan, but at the mention of the engagement party they had reeled off a variety of excuses and hung up. It seemed that everyone had known she was getting serious with someone, everyone that is but him.

Troy stared down at the envelope that had arrived at his beach house that morning. She'd sent a letter with the invitation. He took it out and read it again. Troy found himself wincing as he scanned over the words.

_Dear Troy,_

_I know we have had our differences over the years, but I think it's time we put the past behind us. Literally. I've sent all the relevant papers. You might want to have your lawyer go over them. I want it to be quick and private so it would be nice if you didn't sell your story - I quite liked having our marriage a secret. Not to worry, I don't want any of your money either._

_I've met someone. His name is Damien and yes, I am very much in love with him. I want to spend the rest of my life with him and it appears that he feels the same way. It would mean a lot if you came to the wedding. Nothing's finalised yet, but we're thinking early June. We're also having an engagement party in a few weeks. You should come along. Maybe you could bring that supermodel I'm seeing you photographed with everywhere. You can also meet Damien; I think you two would get along great. If Chad loves him then I'm sure you will too. _

_Lots of love, _

_Gabriella._

_P.S. it would be nice if you brought the papers with you. Preferably signed. _

_P.P.S. I told you they'd take you. Hope you're ready for a little bit of storm though; Damien's a Knicks fan. _

Troy stared down at the wad of documents Gabriella had sent him. He had already tried to read them but couldn't make sense of all the legal jargon. He groaned and threw himself down on the sofa.

This wasn't fair. He had spent a long time trying to get over Gabriella. Pretending that her love life was just as bad as his was had been easy up until that moment. Now it was obvious that she didn't have the same string of broken relationships as he did. Troy sat up, suddenly getting a brainwave.

This was the sign Troy had been waiting for. The kick up the arse that would force him back to Albuquerque where he would win his wife back. He had already spent seven years procrastinating, wondering if she was still in love with him or speaking to her lawyer at that very moment. Very soon it would be too late. She would be married to another guy and never think of him again.

_Or will she…it's not like she can marry him while she's still married to me. _

If he could just get Damien out of the picture then he could win her over. She would be much happier with him than she would ever be with Damien and most importantly, Troy would be happy too. Sure he had lots of money, lots of friends and lots of fans. He _was_ playing for the Lakers and had filled his father's autograph book to epic proportions, but he was lonely. Supermodels, actresses and socialites could only provide so much companionship.

For a brief moment Troy began to doubt himself. It wouldn't be right to walk back into Gabriella's life again and completely tear it up. _But if Damien's the real deal he'll stick and around and they'll stay together. _

Troy nodded to himself, pleased with his logic. He would be like the ultimate test. Besides, he could wander in and out of Gabriella's life as he pleased.

She was his wife.

**Admit it, a part of you really wants to review. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything…yet**

**Author's Note: Sorry this took so long but I have been seriously overwhelmed by coursework. Anyhow, thank you so much for your reviews!!! They made me so happy =D This chapter is a bit of a filler really because I do want this story to be a bit longer than, say, five chapters. It won't be really **_**really **_**long but I'm trying to make something substantial. Enjoy! **

"Technically this is all your fault."

"Thanks."

"If you'd have just stopped moping around for seven years and got your act together it would have been you she was marrying."

"We're already married..."

"Yeah well you would have renewed your vows or something like that."

Troy glared at Sharpay. After finding Troy staring at pictures in his yearbook, she had proposed they go out for lunch to discuss his "options", but in typical fashion was being very unsupportive.

"But you've ruined it all now. God, you were such a crappy husband," she added as she scanned the menu.

"Okay that's it. I'm going home," said Troy as he stood up to leave.

"To stare at more pictures of Gabriella?" she asked archly, her eyes still on the menu. She looked up at when Troy didn't answer; she smirked at the dismayed look on his face.

"I - I wasn't going to…" he mumbled.

"Sit. We have much to discuss." Sharpay commanded. Troy nodded dumbly and collapsed back into the chair. She smiled at him cheerily, "We're going to need to plan your apology speech."

"Apology speech?" Troy echoed.

"Yep. It has to be good. What, you think you can just say 'I love you' and she'll take you back?" Sharpay scoffed.

"You think I should win her back?" Troy asked, slightly baffled by her opinion. He had partly expected her to tell him to buck up and get over himself.

"Well if you don't try you will spend the rest of your life saying 'what if' and then _I'll_ never hear the end of it. Anyway when you guys are back together you can have adorable children and name one of them after me."

Troy resisted a smile; of course Sharpay would only ever help someone out unless it was to her advantage.

"So, when are you going back to Albuquerque?"

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"You can't go back."

Troy caught the basketball flying towards him and frowned.

"Why not?" he asked, throwing the ball back towards his best friend. Chad sighed and took a shot, allowing himself a brief triumphant smile as it swished through the net.

"Because then things will get complicated," Chad explained in a matter-of-fact tone.

"What if I want things to complicated? What if I don't want her to get married to someone else? What if…what if I want her back?" Troy asked defiantly. Chad gave him a withered look.

"Maybe you should have thought about that a few years back," Chad said sympathetically before adding in a franker tone, "Y'know, when she _wasn't_ planning on marrying someone else."

"But Sharpay said-"

"You're taking advice from Sharpay?" Chad asked in disbelief.

"She's a girl…she knows about relationships and … girl stuff," Troy mumbled defensively.

"Troy, you are taking advice from Sharpay…._Sharpay!_"

"Well she understands-"

"Sharpay understands? What because she also married and separated from her high school sweetheart, who then demanded a divorce because he wanted to move on? Silly me, I always seem to forget that you two are in exactly the same boat," Chad said mockingly. At Troy's defeated silence he continued, "look. I'm not saying I understand or anything, but you can't just go back to Albuquerque with flowers and chocolates and expect things to go back to how they were."

"I know it won't be that easy," Troy admitted.

"Then just stay out of it."

"But why? She's my wife! I-I have to do something!" Troy protested. Chad took a deep breath and planted a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Okay promise me you won't go back to Albuquerque."

"What?"

"Just promise me."

"No," Troy scoffed, shaking off his friend's hand.

"Troy…"

"I don't have to promise you anything."

"One small promise. That's all I'm asking," Chad said coolly.

"Small? You're telling me that I can't even go and visit my parents!"

Chad paused, he hadn't thought of that one. "They can come and visit you?" he suggested cautiously.

"What?" Troy asked, clearly baffled by Chad's words.

"At least until Gabriella is happily married."

"You're supposed to be on my side."

"I am on your side," Chad said calmly.

"Then why are you trying to prevent me attaining eternal happiness?" Troy asked childishly.

"I'm not trying…Eternal happiness? You hated being married!" Chad said accusingly.

"That's a lie! I…I loved it!" Troy objected

"What about all those arguments and restrictions?" Chad asked triumphantly, knowing he had his friend backed into a corner. Troy paused

"That was years ago. I wasn't ready then."

"But you're ready now?" Chad quizzed sceptically.

"Yeah," Troy said unconvincingly. Chad sighed.

"Just promise me you won't go back."

"But-"

"Troy…" Chad interrupted warningly. Over the years that he had dated Taylor, Chad had somehow managed to copy and perfect her 'do you really want to fuck with me?' look. Whilst he had never been able to use it against her, the look never failed to unsettle Troy.

"Fine. I…I won't go back to Albuquerque," Troy said reluctantly. At Chad's arched eyebrows he quickly added, "I promise."

"Good," Chad said happily, patting his friend on the back. "We still on for some hoops for tomorrow?"

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The raised eyebrows of the taxi driver told Troy it was time to change his ring tone. He grinned sheepishly as he fumbled for his phone, cursing the designer who thought it would be a good idea to put such small, tight pockets on men's jeans. He looked at the name flashing on the screen and grimaced.

"Chad, what's up?" Troy greeted, his voice notably strained.

"Oh y'know, the usual."

"Um, ok."

"So, ask me where I am right now."

"Where are you?" Troy asked tentatively.

"I'm standing outside your house wondering where the fuck you are because we're supposed to be shooting some hoops right now," Chad said breezily. Troy winced; he knew it was coming sooner or later.

"Yeah…sorry. I, er, had to go out."

"You had to go out?" Chad asked suspiciously.

"Yeah."

"Where?"

"Oh. You know. Out."

"You're at the airport aren't you? Turn around Troy, it's not worth it," Chad commanded.

"I'm not at the airport," Troy said dismissively.

"You're not? Then where are you?" Chad asked, evidently confused.

"I'm…in a taxi."

"And where is this taxi taking you?"

"Around."

"You're already in Albuquerque aren't you?"

"Maybe…" Troy mumbled evasively.

"Troy," Chad groaned, "Why? Please don't do this; you're gonna screw everything up."

"Um, got to go. I have to…er…I gotta go," Troy said quickly and hung up. He briefly wondered how long it would take Chad to jump on a flight and drag him back to LA.

He exhaled loudly and slumped into his seat. Maybe turning up wasn't such a good idea after all. He had an improvised-sounding speech written down somewhere, but would it work?

The taxi pulled up outside a large semi-detached house. Troy paid his fare and reluctantly handed over the large tip that everyone seemed to expect from a profession basketball player.

The house didn't look any different, but Troy didn't even know if she still lived there. He dragged his suitcase up the front path and towards the daunting front door. He was suddenly greeted with memories of every time he had taken the same route. As was expected, he was petrified the first time he approached that front door. Today was no different. Troy hesitated on the doorstep, spending at least a minute with his finger hovering over the doorbell. In the end he took a deep breath and pushed the button.

The same jingly tune echoed through the air as the last time he had visited. He bounced on the balls of his feet nervously as a shadow emerged through the stained glass windows. The door swung open to reveal a short, black haired woman.

"Hi Mrs Montez."

Juliana Montez stared at him, unable to comprehend that it was in fact Troy Bolton standing on her doorstep. She looked him up and down, taking in the minute changes in his appearance.

"You," she said accusingly, her voice dripping with disgust. Seven years had obviously done nothing to soften her feelings for Troy.

Troy winced. Brownies were obviously out of the question.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own Damien =D but that's about it**

**Author's Note: I've been busy. Really busy. They tell you A-Levels are hard work but you never really know until you start doing them. I could make various promises to update sooner but exams are coming up and I **_**do**_** have a social life to uphold. Sorry. I'll update when I can but don't expect me to be speedy. Also thank you for all the reviews!! They make me sooooo happy. I wish I had the time to respond but like I said, I've got a lot going on right now. This chapter isn't all I had hoped it would be, but I got pretty sick of trying to perfect it. Next chapter will be better, I promise!**

When word had got out about Troy's affair, no one had been angrier than Juliana Montez. Taylor had sucker punched him, his mother had slapped him and Sharpay felt it was necessary to put up posters publicly denouncing him as a cheater, but nothing had been worse than the look in Juliana's eyes. Up until that point Troy had coasted through life on a cushy wave of popularity. Everyone liked him: he was Troy Bolton. But when Juliana came to pick up some of Gabriella's things, Troy knew that life was over. He'd never met anyone who wanted to kill him before. Those pursed lips and narrowed eyes had haunted him almost as much as the image of Gabriella standing at the door with tears streaming down her face.

The look on her face hadn't changed. Her skin wasn't as smooth and the thickly rimmed glasses slightly distorted her glare, but Juliana was still one scary woman.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was calm and quiet, but it didn't disguise her venomous feelings.

"I just came to say hi," Troy said with a weak smile. Juliana looked him up and down, assessing his motives.

"She's not here," she said coldly.

"I know…I just…"

"Want to know where she is?"

Troy nodded shyly, "I figured we should talk…and stuff."

"Why?"

"Y'know, for closure and…stuff."

"Closure?" Juliana asked sceptically.

"We have a lot of history."

Juliana stared at Troy, weighing up her options. "If you're going to hurt her," she said warningly.

"I would never do anything to hurt Gabriella," Troy said sincerely.

"That's what you said the last time," Juliana muttered, but she stood aside and beckoned for Troy to come in.

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Saturdays were supposed to be their day. It was the only day of the week where Gabriella was guaranteed to have Damien all to herself, yet here he was jabbering on his blackberry whilst simultaneously trying to do up his tie.

That was the problem with dating such an eager TV Journalist - they were always in demand.

"Come here," Gabriella muttered, setting down her mug of coffee and holding her hands out towards her fiancé. He hovered towards her, his confused expression shifting into one of grateful understanding as she expertly did up his tie. 'Thanks' he mouthed before taking a loud slurp of his own coffee.

He had promised it would be one of those Saturdays - the ones where the couple would cut themselves off from the rest of the world. They would spend the whole morning in bed, indulge in the foods they shouldn't and watch old movies. Except a mere twenty minutes into their day Damien had gotten a call from work. A colleague had called in sick; they desperately needed someone to replace him and who better than the workaholic Damien. The couple's usually decadent 24 hours were condensed into a disappointing two.

Gabriella watched as he paced about the room, listening intensely to the person on the other line. She had to wonder, would it always be like this?

She waited patiently for the conversation to finish, answering his apologetic grins with weak smiles.

"Alright, I'll see you in ten," Damien said with what sounded suspiciously like excitement.

"Babe I am _so_ sorry," he said as he hung up. Gabriella looked down at her coffee, regaining her composure. She looked up at him with a supportive smile.

"Don't worry about it," she said half-heartedly. Her answer seemed to be the one Damien was looking for as his eyes lit up.

"This could be it," he gushed. "All my hard work is paying off. I think they're gonna promote me."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Scott said he'd never seen someone so dedicated."

"Of course," Gabriella said wryly. If Damien picked up on her less than enthusiastic tone he didn't show it.

"I…I really think this is it. I could become the youngest presenter _ever_ on Albuquerque tonight!" he enthused.

The phone rang and Gabriella took it as her cue to leave. She flashed Damien one of her 'ultra supportive girlfriend' smiles and left the room, leaving him to ponder his possible promotion. It wasn't that Gabriella wasn't happy for her fiancé. Journalism was so important to him, but she couldn't help but feel slightly irritated that he often put his career before her.

"Hello?" she said into the receiver.

"Gabriella!" Gabriella jumped as her mother's frantic shout boomed into her ear.

"Mama are you okay?" she asked.

"Why haven't you been answering the phone? I have been calling you for ages!"

"I…had to run to the supermarket," Gabriella lied, guiltily looking down at her attire, thankful that her mother had yet to grasp the joys of Skype. She would have died if her mother had seen her wearing nothing but Damien's shirt.

"Humph," Juliana snorted. Gabriella cringed - her mother had obviously seen straight through her lie.

"What's wrong?" she asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Troy's coming!" Juliana blurted. Gabriella froze.

"Troy?" she asked weakly. "As in Troy Bolton?"

"Yes, he was just here," said Juliana, her voice taking on a gossipy tone.

"He was at your house?"

"Yes! And he is coming to see you!"

"Now?"

"Yes!"

"B-but…what? When? Where is he now?"

"I don't know. He left a while ago, he's probably on your street right now."

Gabriella froze as the doorbell rang through the house.

"Gabriella? Gabriella is that him?" her mother asked desperately. Gabriella ignored her and listened as Damien's footsteps moved towards the front door. She bit her lip as she heard the door swing open and Damien's chipper, polite greeting.

"Is - is Gabriella here? Gabriella Bolton?"

Gabriella shut her eyes; she recognised his voice instantly. She had tried so hard to forget that voice. It had been slightly difficult, what with Troy being considered an A-List celebrity, but with the help of the mute button she hadn't been doing too badly.

"Mama he called me Bolton," she whispered into the phone.

"He's there?"

"Oh my god…he doesn't know. Damien doesn't know!" Gabriella whispered hysterically.

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"Bolton?" Damien asked, "I think you've got the wrong house."

Troy frowned and stared down at the piece of paper in his hands. Juliana had wordlessly written down an address on a piece of flowery paper, her handwriting a mass of elegant swoops.

"Are…are you sure?" Troy asked, not really knowing what else to say. It had to be the house, it had Gabriella written all over it, besides, he was pretty sure Juliana would never give him a false address. Would she?

"I'm sure," Damien said impatiently.

"Really? Because I was told I could find her here," Troy mumbled, staring down at the piece of paper, searching for any ambiguous letters.

"Well I'm afraid you've been told the wrong thing."

"Is this the right address? Have I read it wrong?" Troy asked, thrusting the piece of paper into Damien's face. Damien scanned Juliana's perfectly legible handwriting; his confident expression faltered.

"Well you're in the right place, but I'm afraid your source has given you the wrong address," Damien said with a dry, nervous chuckle.

"Wrong address?" Troy echoed, feeling unbearably stupid. Why _would_ Juliana want to help him find Gabriella?

"I've obviously got the wrong place, sorry to bother you," Troy mumbled and turned to leave. Damien's face lit up with recognition.

"Wait a second..." Damien said slowly, his eyebrows furrowed. "You look familiar, do I know you?" Troy shook his head; he wasn't in the mood to pose for pictures.

"Oh my god, you're-" Damien was cut off by a loud thump.

Both men looked into the hallway of the house to see a small woman rubbing her arm, wincing at the aftermath of her collision with the adjacent wall - she had forgotten laminate floors could be so slippery. She straightened up, suddenly remembering she was not alone. She stared past the concerned and confused look on her fiancé's face to the man standing behind him.

"Troy," Gabriella breathed, slightly breathless from her brief run. Troy opened his mouth, fishing for something cool to say, but coming up short.

"Hi," he managed to splutter. Damien looked between the two, his frown deepening with every awkward second that passed.

"You guy's know each other?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Only Damien!**

**Author's Note: Um…so sorry I haven't been updating recently but I **_**did**_** have my a levels to do. I'd like to promise frequent updates now that they're over but every time I make such promises I end up breaking them.**

**Thanks once again to everyone who reviewed. They are all very much appreciated!**

Damien's question pulled Gabriella back into the real world. She dragged her eyes from Troy and looked at her confused fiancé.

"Yeah, he's…" Gabriella paused and looked back towards Troy. He was still watching her intently. "An old friend. We … we went to school together," she mumbled. Gabriella saw Troy's eyebrows shoot up into his fringe. She ignored his confused look; she hadn't been ready to tell Damien before and she sure as hell wasn't ready to tell him now.

Damien's expression broke into one of understanding, "Of course! You two both went to East High right?"

"Yeah," she said with a weak smile. "But I haven't seen him in years…I didn't even know he was gonna be in town," she said with a meaningful glance in Troy's direction. This was the part where he would explain himself.

Yeah, just visiting the parents, but I, er, heard you were getting married."

"Yeah…I-I am," Gabriella stuttered. Unsurprisingly, she found it difficult to admit to the man who was technically her husband.

Troy turned his attention to her fiancé. "You must be Damien," he said as he held out his hand. Damien returned the shake enthusiastically.

"It's so great to meet you!" he gushed, still pumping Troy's hand.

Gabriella felt uncomfortable watching Damien being so nice; she could see the traces of a smirk on Troy's lips as Damien poured on the compliments. "Honey you'll be late for work," she intervened. A crestfallen look crossed Damien's face and he looked torn between the career opportunity of a lifetime and socialising with a legend-in-the-making.

"On a Saturday?" Troy questioned. "Wow…that's too bad. But maybe I'll see you around some time, heard you like to play a little ball."

"I dabble," he said with a preppy grin.

Gabriella kept her eyes to the floor as Damien mumbled his excuses and left for work. She didn't look up as Damien pressed a soft kiss to her cheek and offered her goodbye smile to the laminate floor.

"Dabble?" Troy asked, not bothering to hold back a smirk. Gabriella looked up from the floor and gave him a withered look.

"What are you doing here Troy?" She asked, already sounding completely exasperated with him already.

"I just came by to see you…because…well, it's been a while."

"You can say that again," she mumbled. Troy decided it would be best if he didn't repeat himself.

"So, can I come in?" he asked hesitantly. Gabriella nodded.

She led Troy into the living room and gestured to a cream leather sofa. He sat down cautiously, his eyes roaming around the room as he took in every little detail. He was a lot bigger than he was the last time she had seen him in person. Troy had always been muscular, but the athletic teenager shuffling down her front path had morphed into something slightly brawny. He was by no means a body builder, but his arms were bigger and his shoulders considerably wider. Gabriella proudly noted that she had no overwhelming desire to see what he would like with his shirt off. Her eyes drifted away from his torso and to his face. He still had that incredibly boyish look; Gabriella could still picture that immature snigger and self-assured grin. He was still sporting the same hairstyle, albeit a missing inch or two. Gabriella was about to make an icebreaking jibe when she realised her long wavy tresses had hardly transformed over the past seven years either.

It was only as she looked into his eyes that Gabriella noticed Troy had stopped checking out the room and had turned his attention to her. She watched as his eyes strayed from her face to her legs and back again. She cringed as she remembered her attire.

"I'll just go change," she mumbled. She barely registered Troy's disappointed expression before she skittered out the room.

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Gabriella stared at her reflection in the mirror. Low cut top. Tight jeans. Lots of make up and carefully tousled hair. He was going to think she was trying to seduce him. Without a moment's hesitation Gabriella tore off her blouse and jeans.

Her eyes flew to the clock on her bedside table - she'd been upstairs for the past twenty minutes. The longer she took, the more he'd know how hard she was trying to make an impression.

This was not how it was supposed to go. Troy was supposed to walk into the room and find Gabriella at her finest. Dressed to kill with the sexiest man in the room on her arm and surrounded by her closest friends. She had hoped that if they were ever to be reunited, it would be when Gabriella was at her best. She had meant to show him what he was missing. Instead he had found her with no make up, her hair barely brushed and wearing her fiancé's shirt.

He wasn't supposed to be here. She'd sent a letter and the papers via post so she wouldn't have to deal with any personal contact. He was supposed to sign the papers, thank god she wasn't going to demand a couple of million and send them straight back.

How was she supposed to find the ideal reunion outfit if he just turned up unannounced?

Gabriella's panic abruptly shifted into anger. How dare he turn up like this? Had he not gathered that she had no immediate desire to see him? She had done everything by post so she wouldn't have to deal with an awkward confrontation. The invitation to the party had just been an offhand thing, done out of politeness more than a wish for some sort of reunion.

He was _supposed_ to politely decline the invitation - _via post _- and send her the signed divorce papers, grateful she wasn't trying to wring any undeserved money out of him.

If, for reasons unknown (maybe his utter stupidity), he took the invitation literally and turned up she would be completely prepared. Conversation topics guaranteed to make her seem as if she was doing much better with out him? Preened to perfection. Dashing, intelligent and amazing fiancé? Completely clued in on her marital status and ready to upstage Troy in absolutely everything. Drop-dead gorgeous appearance? A dress to show off her best assets and make Troy literally kick himself.

She had envisioned the whole thing in her mind, but had yet to set any of those things in motion. Now here was Troy, seven days too early and already bringing out the worst in Damien.

With a set jaw Gabriella reached for the first outfit she had tried on - a floral print tea dress - and charged down the stairs.

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"What are you doing here?" Gabriella said as she burst into the room. Troy looked a little taken back by her dramatic entrance, slamming shut the cabinet drawer he knew he shouldn't have been opening in the first place.

"Didn't we, uh, already have this conversation?" Troy asked as he tried to discreetly put some space between himself and the cabinet.

"You came here to ruin things for me, didn't you?" she said accusingly.

"Why would I want to do that?"

"You haven't been to Albuquerque in years. I tell you I'm getting married and a few days later you show up. It doesn't feel like much of a coincidence."

"What? A guy can't go home without looking like he's trying to wreck his ex's new relationship?" Troy said with a nervous laugh. Gabriella watched him warily.

"So me getting married has nothing to do with you being in Albuquerque?"

"Um...well it's not the _whole_ reason..."

"Oh my god," Gabriella moaned, her voice slightly muffled by her hands covering her face.

"I just wanna…check this guy out. Make sure you're making the right decision," Troy explained smoothly. He knew his charming tone had not worked when Gabriella looked up at him with a murderous look in her eyes. He offered her his winning smile.

"Are you serious?" Gabriella asked, completely outraged. Troy leaned back as she closed the gap between them. "A-a-are you for real?"

She was so angry she could hardly formulate any words. Troy watched nervously as she stuttered and glared, hands flying about wildly as she tried to convey her anger.

"I'm not here to cause trouble," Troy said soothingly, reaching out to stroke her arm. Gabriella batted his hand away and launched into another outburst.

"Who the hell do you think you are? After all these years you think I need _your_ approval. You-"

Troy cut her off, "I just don't want you to make any stupid mistakes."

"I've already made that kind of mistake. I'm not gonna do it again."

"I don't know about that…"

"Oh please you don't know anything," Gabriella said scornfully, "You don't know Damien and you certainly don't know me!"

"Yeah you're right. I don't know anything about Damien, but I _do_ know you. We were married, remember?"

"Yeah, for like nine months," she said dismissively.

"I _know _you," Troy stressed, "and I know that you could never be happy with a guy who works on a Saturday-"

"Oh please, " Gabriella scoffed, "It's not a regular thing."

"But it bothers you."

Troy smiled smugly as Gabriella looked away. He was right; it did bother her. Damien was a workaholic and though she much preferred it to Troy's lazy outlook on life, she hated that their time together was restricted to less than 72 hours a week.

"You're all about quality time and he's obviously all about work. Either that or you guys aren't even married and he's already trying to get some alone time."

What was he insinuating? Gabriella was suddenly too drained to even ask. All she knew was that over the past week she had been having some doubts and Troy had instantly tapped into them. He could see the problems too - the cracks in her perfect relationship. If Troy could see them then that meant they weren't a figment of her imagination like Taylor had said. They were very real and if Troy was right, another train wreck was imminent.

"Get out," Gabriella mumbled, collapsing into the nearby sofa. "Please, just get out."

Troy hovered anxiously in the doorway. That wasn't the reaction he was expecting.

"Okay," he mumbled dumbly and showed himself out.

As he closed the door behind him Troy looked up at the house. They lived in a real, honest-to-god house with a luscious front lawn and a white picket fence. It wasn't a cramped, destitute apartment on the edge of a university campus. It wasn't a home where the occupants lived off hopeless optimism, pretending that it was perfectly normal for the hot water not to work. This was a house with hot water, electricity, and central heating - the whole works. It was perfect.

Or at least as perfect as he had thought Gabriella's relationship would be. Troy had been running around blindly in there, grasping at the loose ends of his sparse knowledge of Damien to try and build up a case against him. He had never expected to be so successful.

Troy smiled to himself: he loved being right.

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"You made her cry, do you know that?"

"How did you know?"

"Aren't you concerned? How are you supposed to win her back if you make her cry?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"And you didn't answer mine."

Sometimes Troy _really_ hated Sharpay.

"Fine yes, I feel bad for making her cry," Troy said flatly into the phone. He heard Sharpay tut.

"There _are _more effective ways of undermining her relationship than making her cry. Did we not discuss the whole 'be nice' thing before we left?"

"I was being nice," Troy protested. "I just…didn't know what else to say."

"You went in on the offensive," Sharpay said knowingly, "you should have kept it light. Asked how she had been - wait, did you even ask or did you just launch right into it?"

"Um…"

"Oh. My. God. That was phase three fool! You are absolutely hopeless. How many times did we role-play your meeting? What is the matter with you?"

Troy winced and held the phone away from his ear as Sharpay launched into a tirade on the many things wrong with his approach.

"Yeah okay I did bad," he interrupted, "what now?"

"Well you're just going to have to try and start over again. Apologise for being mean and be super nice till she forgives you."

"Okay…but how do you know she cried?"

"Chad told me."

"What do you mean Chad told you."

"I mean Chad told me."

"How did Chad know?"

"Taylor told him."

"And how did Taylor know?"

"She spoke to Gabriella, duh!"

"Sharpay…you and Chad…you didn't tell Taylor about what I'm doing, did you?"

"Well _I _didn't. Listen I have another call. Don't screw up again Troy."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own all the stuff you recognise**

**Author's Note: Thank you very much for all your reviews and to all those who put this fic on story alert and in their favourites. I activated the email alerts just to see what would happen and was pretty overwhelmed by the number of FF related items in my inbox. So thanks! I had planned to make this chapter much long and much better but I didn't really know what else to do with it. Can't promise a speedy update but if it helps I know exactly where I'm going in the next chapter.**

Lucille Bolton sang as she made breakfast. She wasn't a great singer and she could see her husband wince every time she hit a bum note, but he hummed and bobbed his head to the silent beat anyway. She was happy and he couldn't blame her: Troy was home.

Troy hadn't been in Albuquerque in seven years, always insisting that his parents 'take a break' and visit him in LA. He would never admit it, but both parents knew Troy was afraid of running into Gabriella again. Lucille had suspected that Gabriella's impending nuptials would lead to some sort of reunion but she had always imagined that Gabriella would have to go and seek him out rather than the other way round.

Lucille rarely made pancakes for breakfast anymore. Jack would often beg for them - being the hopeless cook he was - but it had usually taken his efforts combined with Troy's pleading blue eyes. This time he didn't even have to ask.

"When did we get a cat?"

Both parents spun round to face the kitchen doorway.

"Oh…you were singing again. My bad," Troy joked with a grin.

"Ha ha," Lucille said dryly whilst Jack chuckled. Troy slid into the kitchen and peered over his father's shoulder to see what was cooking.

"Mmm," he said appreciatively, before he went off in search of some coffee. He did not Jack and Lucille watching him with confused expressions until he was standing beside them again.

"What?" he asked warily.

"What's with the suit?" asked Jack.

"Going to church," Troy said nonchalantly.

"Since when do you go to church," asked Jack incredulously.

"I go to church," Troy said defensively.

"Does this have anything to do with Gabriella?" asked Lucille.

"No…"

Lucille and Jack exchanged knowing looks.

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"What did Damien say? Does he know?"

"No…"

"Well what did Troy say?"

"He said…a few things."

"Did he stay for long?"

"Not really."

"Was it awkward?"

Gabriella quietly groaned. _This_ was why she had been avoiding her mother's incessant phone calls. She had even been tempted to skip out on church this week, but she had been building up the confidence to ask Father Willis for an annulment and he would never grant her one if she only ever went to church when she felt like it.

"Yes mother. It was very awkward," Gabriella said tersely.

Juliana had been waiting for Gabriella on the church steps, craning her neck over passers by so she could see her daughter coming. The second Gabriella had turned around the corner and into her mother's line of sight Juliana had tottered towards her, eager to find out all the juicy details. Unsurprisingly she was disappointed with her daughter's un-juicy answers.

"Is he upset about the wedding?" Juliana asked as the two women walked up the church aisle. Gabriella shot her mother a warning look - she didn't want anyone at church to know she was getting married, not yet anyway.

"He was acting as if he didn't care but I'm not too sure…"

Gabriella rolled her eyes. Maybe she should have stayed at home and spent some time with Damien. She felt a sharp pang as she remembered what Troy had said to her the day before.

"You like Damien, don't you mum?" Gabriella asked as she took her seat beside her mother in their normal pew.

"Of course I do."

"And you don't think I'm making a mistake?"

"Of course not, Gabi are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Is this about Troy?"

"It's got nothing to do with Troy," Gabriella said firmly.

Eventually Juliana got the message and stopped pestering her daughter for details, but she spent the next few minutes of the service pondering Gabriella's awkward situation. Gabriella was thinking of the same thing, wondering if she should approach Father Willis after the service. She was stolen from her thoughts by a sharp nudge in her shoulder and a whispered "budge up."

Gabriella looked up and froze. She opened her mouth to say something but ended up blinking dumbly. There was a brief shuffle as everyone else in the pew moved closer together to make room for the newcomer. Gabriella obediently followed suit.

He was doing it to wind her up. He had to be. She could tell by the small, satisfied smirk on his face, obviously a result of her shock.

There was no way Troy would ever go to church of his own accord.

**Flashback**

_Troy yawned loudly, earning him a jab in the stomach courtesy of Gabriella's elbow. He winced and glared at his wife, rubbing the now sore spot on his stomach. _

_Church wasn't really Troy's kind of thing._

_He was used to spending his Sunday mornings in bed, mostly recovering from a hangover, but ever since he had proposed to Gabriella, those lazy Sundays had gone out the window. _

_Troy stifled a groan as the organist launched into another hymn and everyone rose to their feet. He felt Gabriella tug at his shoulder and reluctantly stood up, staring down at the open hymnbook that had been thrust into his hands. _

_Seeing the look Gabriella was sending his way, Troy began to quietly sing along to the song he had never heard before. It always amazed him, how everyone seemed to be able to sing the hundreds of songs perfectly. His words lazily slurred into an odd sort of hum. He rocked back on his heels and looked at the church's stained glass windows, admiring the way coloured light fell onto the altar. _

_The hymn drew to a close and Troy began to sink back into the pew, only to have Gabriella grab him by the elbow and pull him back up again. He rolled his eyes as a few seconds later Father Willis gave the go ahead and everyone sat back down. _

_Troy was never usually this irritated with church but that morning he was suffering from a killer hangover. The night before he had gone to a pretty big party and he couldn't really remember much past guzzling his umpteenth beer. He stumbled home mid Sunday morning to find Gabriella waiting expectantly for him, dressed in a church-friendly dress with a suit laid out for him on the bed. _

_Troy loosened his tie and slunk lower into the pew, wincing as the congregation launched into the Lord's Prayer. A warning glance from Gabriella forced him to join._

"_Hallowed be thy name,_

_Thy kingdom come thy will be done, _

_On earth as it is in heaven, _

_Give us this day our daily bread,_

_And lead us not into temptation..."_

_Troy trailed off. He knew he had gone wrong somewhere when the woman beside him shot him an odd look. Warily, he peered at Gabriella, who looked as if she were praying for the ground to swallow her up. It wasn't his fault; he had only started reciting the Lord's Prayer seven months ago. Besides, the previous hymn and echoing voices were making his head throb._

_Gabriella did not acknowledge his mistake until Father Willis began to speak again._

"_And forgive us our trespasses," she hissed, "as we forgive those that trespass against us. __**Then**__ you say and lead us-"_

"_Alright, sorry," Troy mumbled dismissively. _

"_I told you not to go out last night."_

"_No you didn't. You said don't forget about church."_

"_Same difference," Gabriella whispered childishly. "You know I meant don't drink too much."_

"_Well maybe next time you should be more specific."_

"_Shh!" a voice said loudly from behind. The couple ignored them. _

"_How specific do you want me to be, huh? Don't have more than three cans? Don't drink that brand? Don't go around licking people's stomachs?"_

"_Huh?" Troy said loudly, briefly forgetting he was supposed to be whispering._

"_Beth was at the party last night. She said she saw you with some girl."_

"_What?"_

"_She said you were whispering in her ear."_

"_Huh?"_

"_She said she saw you lick her stomach."_

"_I what?"_

"_I…I didn't," he mumbled, racking his brains for any recollections of a stomach. "I swear, whatever she saw, it wasn't me. I would never…" Troy trailed off as he remembered waking up that morning. _

_It had been a little surreal, waking up with a random girl in his arms. Minus his t-shirt, they had been fully dressed. She had angrily told him nothing had happened and an amused Zeke had assured him that he hadn't so much as kissed the girl on the cheek. _

"_Fuck!" he hissed. It wasn't loud, but it was loud enough to garner the attention of those sitting close to him. He ignored the evident "shush" that followed his outburst, only being able to watch as Gabriella stood up and left for the bathroom. _

_When she returned she ensured that Juliana was sandwiched between them, giving Troy harrowing glares for upsetting her daughter. _

**End Flashback**

Gabriella watched Troy throughout the whole service. She watched as he sang the words to every hymn perfectly, his pitch-perfect voice loud and clear amongst the more moderate volumes of the congregation. She listened with furrowed eyebrows as he uttered the Lord's Prayer word for word with no hesitation. He stood up and sat down when he was supposed to. He didn't get frustrated as he leafed through the hymnbook trying to find the next song and he did not turn to stare at the stained glass windows once.

"Why are you here?" Gabriella asked curtly, once the service was over. The pair stood in a corner of the room. The rest of the congregation milled around them, clutching cups of tea or coffee and biscuits. It didn't take a genius to know that the small clustered groups were eagerly discussing the return of their very own prodigal son.

"Can't I go to church?" Troy answered innocently, stuffing a biscuit into his mouth.

"You _hate_ church."

"That was then."

"What, and now you've found God?" Gabriella asked mockingly. Her words carried over to the group standing nearest to them and the group launched into more whispers. By the time everyone would have left church, they would know that Gabriella's foolish non-believing sinner of a husband had finally seen the light.

"You make it sound so stupid."

Gabriella's jaw dropped, her cold tone fading. "Are you serious?"

"I guess all that church going rubbed off on me," he said with an awkward smile.

"How did it happen?" asked Gabriella, staring at him intently.

"How?"

"Yeah. Did you…see something?"

There was only one convert in Gabriella's church, but his eccentricity and tendency to be less than truthful had everyone doubting his epiphany.

"Um…no," he mumbled. He and Sharpay had not covered his explanation for his supposed conversion. "I just, er, well I went to a confession and I, er…it made me feel better."

Gabriella looked slightly disappointed by his answer, "You went to confession?"

"Yeah," Troy said slowly, "I started to go every time I had a problem. One time the priest invited me to go to mass and now I, er, go nearly every Sunday."

Troy watched Gabriella's thought process with only a hint of guilt. He watched her chew her lip as she thought over Troy's story and the eventual smile on her lips and pride in her eyes when she decided it must be the truth.

Part of the story was true. He _did_ go to a confession after his first few weeks in LA. In fact he found himself in a confessional almost every three weeks, admitting all the things he hoped the gossip columnists would never hear whilst the priest would listen with raised eyebrows. It was a relief to tell someone the things that had been preying on his mind in the knowledge that it would never leave the room.

However church was still a no go. 'I don't have the time' he would mumble to the minister every time he was invited to mass, but Gabriella did not need to know that right now. She didn't need to know that he had contacted Father Willis a few days ago, just to ask what hymns would be sung that Sunday. She would not have liked the fact that he had spent the night before memorising the Lord's Prayer, having Sharpay call him at random intervals to test his memory.

_All's fair in love and war_, he reminded himself. Though he had a feeling that not even the minister could forgive or condone his actions at his next confession.

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Barbara was the first to approach the pair.

Everyone in the church had already known she would be the first to open the topic and had waited impatiently for her to gather the facts and finish her cup of tea. Gabriella had dreaded her approach and had to force a smile when she noticed Barbara coming her way.

"I'm so happy for you," Barbara gushed as she scooped Troy and Gabriella into a big embrace.

"You are?" Gabriella said weakly as the woman released the pair.

"Of course," she exclaimed, her eyes brightening considerably. "I always knew you two were meant to be. The second I saw you standing there at that altar, I knew I was looking at the real deal."

Barbara's words opened the floodgates and within seconds the nearest cluster had joined them.

"So many people don't understand that it's a _sacred_ union," said a member of the group.

"You're lucky to have found each other," chimed in another.

"We were so surprised when you broke up, we knew it couldn't last."

"I wish I had your power and commitment, maybe then my ex and I could have worked things out."

"You deserve each other, you really do."

"Are you going to renew you vows? It would be _so_ lovely if you did."

The whole thing was all one big joke to Troy, as evident by the amused smile stretched upon his face. He looked at her, obviously looking to share the joke. That twinkle in his eye made her want to punch him.

Gabriella blinked wearily: this could not be happening. She groaned quietly as she saw Father Willis head towards them. How was she supposed to get the damn annulment if it looked like Troy and Gabriella were actually getting along pretty well?


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own the shiz you recognise from the HSM franchise**

**Authors Note: Thanks for all the reviews! I know I said the next update would be speedy but then I started to doubt myself and had to rewrite this a few times. It's really short and I'm sorry about that but everything's really weird right now. I figured I should post what I've already written because I don't foresee much time for writing in the near future. Enjoy!**

Troy had had no idea of how the congregation would react to his sudden reappearance; he had never really been in with the church community. He had always been referred to as Gabriella's husband or 'the one who looks like he doesn't want to be here'. Troy had figured that those who remembered him would probably say hello, ask him how life was treating and go on about how great it was to see him again.

He looked out at the large group that had rapidly formed around them after Barbara's approach with a bemused smile. He had definitely not been expecting such a … warm welcome. He did not recognise half of the faces around him but they evidently recognised him, whether from the TV or his sporadic appearances at church all those years ago he did not quite know.

Gabriella was clearly not enjoying the attention as much as he was. Her polite smiles twisted into grimaces and her attempts to rectify the situation were failing miserably.

"Have you set a date yet?" A woman asked the pair excitedly.

"No. You see-" Gabriella was cut off by another woman.

"How about the day you got married! Wouldn't that be romantic?"

"Yes!" chimed the first before adding with a wink at Troy, "Then you won't have to remember two anniversaries instead of one."

"That would make things easier," Troy mused.

Gabriella stared at him, horrified by his response: what the hell was he doing? Father Willis was weaving through the room, pausing every now and again to politely respond to greetings, but his eyes kept straying over to Troy and Gabriella.

Gabriella nudged Troy's arm, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure," Troy said casually, rubbing the spot where Gabriella had poked him. She had not exactly been gentle.

Gabriella dragged Troy into the church foyer, ignoring everyone who tried to start a conversation as they passed.

"What the hell was that?" she hissed once they were safely out of earshot.

"What was what?"

Troy's blasé attitude was really beginning to get on Gabriella's nerves. She resisted tackling him and took a deep breath, "That! In there! You were…encouraging them."

"And…" Troy quickly realised his one word answer wasn't enough, "It's funny."

"Funny. You think it's funny?"

"Yeah…"

The pair stared at each other; Gabriella irritated by Troy's behaviour and Troy wondering what he had done wrong.

"You're trying to destroy everything," Gabriella said flatly.

"No I'm not," Troy protested, "I'm just…it's funny."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"How old are you Troy?" Gabriella asked scathingly.

"You started it," Troy mumbled defensively, prompting Gabriella to roll her eyes as if he had just proved her point.

"I'm not trying to destroy anything," he insisted.

"Bullshit," Gabriella blurted out. There was a loud tut as a man hobbled past the pair, throwing Gabriella a dirty look. Her hand flew over her mouth and she glanced around sheepishly to check if anyone else had caught her swearing in the one place she shouldn't. Troy stifled a laugh.

"You have to admit it's kinda funny how everyone's jumped to the conclusion that we're back together."

Gabriella shot him a withered look; "There is _nothing_ funny about this. If they think we're together I will _never_ get that annulment."

"Annulment?" Troy echoed.

"How else am I going to get married here?"

"You wanna get married here?" Troy asked, "in church?"

"Where else would I get married?"

"A…a registry office?" Troy suggested. Gabriella rose her eyebrows.

"Why do that when I can get married in church?"

"Why do you need to get married in church?"

"Why wouldn't I want to get married in church?"

"Well…you've already had your big churchy white wedding. Who needs another?"

Gabriella frowned, "I do.".

"But why?"

"Why not?"

There was another pause as the pair regarded each other, both trying to figure out what the other was thinking.

"Why shouldn't I get married in church?" Gabriella asked.

"Why would you-"

"Stop answering my questions with a question!" Gabriella snapped. "_What_ is your problem?"

"I don't have a problem," Troy muttered.

"Well you obviously do and you _obviously_ want to tell me something so go ahead."

Troy avoided Gabriella's steely gaze (how the hell had everyone managed to copy Taylor's look?). Troy knew that if he said what was on the tip of his tongue things would probably all fall to pieces; Sharpay had told him to keep his true opinions hidden until Thursday. Surely things would be fine if he just…toned them down a little.

"I just thought that since you were catholic and everything getting married in church is a pretty big deal," Troy mumbled.

"Yeah," Gabriella said slowly, "I guess so."

"So surely the whole, er, sacred thing, with promises to God…"

"Yeah…" Gabriella prompted as Troy trailed off.

"Isn't it just a special one time thing?"

"I suppose," Gabriella murmured, not quite sure what Troy was getting at.

"And haven't you already made your…sacred promise to God. I know that things with us didn't quite work out but surely it counts for something."

Gabriella didn't say anything.

"This whole annulment thing isn't legal so it's not like you can't get married without it."

"I'd quite like for my marriage to be recognised by the church," Gabriella said stiffly.

"But does it have to be?" Troy asked.

Gabriella finally understood Troy's argument. She wasn't quite sure why she felt the lump rising in her throat or the sudden need to sit down. Without a word she turned on her heel and left the church.

Troy didn't try and stop her. Instead he reached for his mobile phone and called the only person he knew he could talk to. She picked up after four rings.

"Sharpay?"

"Troy! How was church?"

"Weird…uh, I think I did something wrong."

"Oh my god, did you say that prayer wrong because you had it just fine a few hours ago."

"No, no. The prayer was perfect."

"Fabulous."

"I think I may have just told Gabriella I don't really want us to get divorced."

"…"

"Shar?"

"…"

"I didn't say the actual words…actually I told her I didn't think she should get an annulment but it's pretty much the same thing right."

"…"

"Sharpay? You still there?"

"Why do you have to fuck _everything_ up?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Don't own the shiz you recognise from the films.**

**Author's note: Thanks for the reviews! Um…sorry this took so long. But I went on holiday and then I brought sims 3….so yeah. College starts tomorrow so don't expect anything quickly. **

It was so obvious now, what Troy was trying to do. Avoiding her admittedly weak attempts to make contact for seven years was one thing, but to show up out of the blue and try and wreck the one decent relationship she had had since their break up was out of order.

At first she had entertained the idea that he might still be in love with her. It would certainly explain why he was doing this, but it did not explain why they had not seen each other in almost a decade. There had been no phone calls, no emails, no letters, no visits. The most she ever saw of him was on TV and in the gossip columns.

'_You've already had your big churchy white wedding. Who needs another?'_

That's what he had said and Gabriella finally understood what he meant; it would explain why he did not know how to explain himself anyway.

Troy was afraid of being replaced.

He had always had a thing about being liked. At East High he had been Mr. Popular, adored and admired by everyone. He loved being special and she could bet he was one of those celebrities who sent tip-offs as to his whereabouts to the paparazzi, just so everyone would remember how special he was.

Even after the break-up he had been special to her, after all they had been married. After the bitterness ebbed away, she couldn't stop herself from paying extra special attention when his name cropped up on E! News and she had a secret horde of women's weeklies that she had brought just because he was on the front cover. Not that Troy would ever know that…

Troy caught up to her just as she was reaching the park gates. It was nothing but pure laziness that prompted Gabriella to drive to church every Sunday. It was only a bus ride away and if she had the time and energy, an easy walk too. She could never find a decent parking space and Gabriella would always promise herself she would never do it again as she trekked through a park to reach the multi-storey she always had to rely on. Gabriella had never expected him to come after her and was vaguely touched when he tapped her on the shoulder, panting lightly from his short but swift run.

"That came out wrong," he mumbled, "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it?"

Troy faltered. During his brief journey he had not quite come up with a suitable way to explain himself. Sharpay had been no help whatsoever, instructing him to run after her and 'be honest' because he couldn't 'fuck things up' anymore he already had.

"I don't know," Troy admitted.

Gabriella rolled her eyes and began to walk away.

"No! Wait!" he called after her but she kept on walking. He would have to do better than that.

"Gabriella!" he wailed as she continued to walk away from him. After realising that it would take more than words to get her to stop Troy began to charge after her. She froze as she felt a hand clamp around her arm.

"Will you please just listen to me," he begged, spinning her round to face him. The look on her face made him release her instantly, but she did not take the opportunity to walk away. Troy took that as a good sign.

He gestured to a nearby bench. Gabriella wordlessly accepted his silent suggestion by sitting down.

"This is weird for me," Troy admitted, "getting married is something I don't think I'll ever do gain, yet here you are doing it again with a guy I didn't even know you were seeing."

"Why would you need to know who I'm seeing?"

"Well it's not like you don't know the ins and outs of all my relationships," Troy said with a wry smile. Gabriella blushed, thinking of the stack of magazines shoved in the back of her wardrobe.

"That's different," she mumbled, "I couldn't escape it even if I tried."

"They get most of it wrong anyway," Troy said dismissively.

"They do?"

Troy snorted at Gabriella's naivety, "According to them I'm currently on a romantic weekend with Scarlett Johansson, just because we happened to be at the airport at the same time.

"Isn't she married?"

"Exactly."

The pair smiled at each other and for a moment Gabriella almost forgot why they were sitting there in the first place.

"Why wouldn't you get married again?" she blurted. Troy didn't seem fazed by the conversation's u-turn.

"Well it wasn't exactly fun was it?" Troy said nonchalantly. He turned to give her a smile only to find that for the third time he had managed to bring Gabriella to tears.

"It wasn't that bad," she said stiffly.

"Of course not," he agreed quickly but he could tell the damage was already done, "it just wasn't what I expected."

"What _did _you expect?"

Troy shrugged, "less arguments?" he suggested.

"Every married couple has arguments," Gabriella mumbled defensively. Troy decided not to point out the dozens of examples that flew into his head to back up his point. People argued, but not the way they had.

"We never used to argue," he said wistfully, "not before we got married." And it was true. Their disagreements used to involve one person ranting whilst the other listened with tears in their eyes. After they got married the listener would stop listening and the 'ranter' would have to face a few rants themselves. They would have long, drawn out screaming matches. All it took was one little thing to set them off – Troy forgetting things was pretty common – and it would evolve into an extensive 'critique' of the other's personality and actions.

_**FLASHBACK**_

"_Hey Gabi…is there room in the washing machine?"_

_Gabriella was too engrossed in her laptop to look up and check what Troy wanted washing. He had demonstrated his incapacity to successfully wash clothes several times and Gabriella had had to say goodbye to many woollen cardigans and dry-clean only dresses but it seemed as though he were beginning to get the hang of it. _

"_Uh huh," she mumbled._

_If she had looked up she would have seen him clutching his red Wildcat hoodie. If she had not been so concerned with meeting tomorrow's deadline she would have remembered that every article of clothing in the washing machine was white. _

_She let Troy put the load on, trusting he would put the conditioner in the right compartment, not forget to put in any powder or set a ridiculously high or low temperature. She forgot that they had yet to cover the basic lesson of separating colours from whites. She figured it was just common sense._

_It was Troy who discovered his mistake. At first he thought it was a godsend but he quickly discovered that it didn't matter who found out first, Gabriella would still butcher him anyway. _

_He shuffled sheepishly into the living room clutching one of Gabriella's shirts and the offending hoodie. She was still on the laptop and didn't look up when he called her name._

"_Gabi?"_

"_Uh huh."_

"_So remember when I said I wanted to put something in the machine…"_

"_Uh huh."_

"_Well I put this in…" Troy held up his hoodie. Gabriella gave it a fleeting glance._

"_And I didn't realise that the stuff you put in would, er…" Troy continued, holding up Gabriella's once white shirt, "change colour."_

_At that Troy had Gabriella's full attention. Her eyes widened and she looked up from the laptop, taking in the hoodie and shirt. Within seconds she was out the room and bowed in front of the washing machine, rifling through the heap of clothes emptied into a basket. _

"_Oh. My. God," she wailed as her rifling confirmed that everything she had put in was now a rosy shade of pink. _

"_I didn't know," Troy mumbled apologetically as he shuffled into the kitchen after her. _

"_What did you think would happen?" she growled. _

"_I…I didn't even see them."_

"_Of course you didn't."_

"_What's that supposed to mean?" Troy asked accusingly. Gabriella stood up and turned to face him._

"_It means that once again you have proven yourself incapable of doing anything other than sing and play basketball."_

_Troy winced at her scathing tone, "I said I was sorry," he mumbled._

"_Did you?" she asked, hands on hips. Troy knew that stance; she was ready for battle. He quickly thought back over the conversation._

"_Okay maybe I didn't," he said sheepishly, "but I'm saying it now. So…I'm sorry."_

_There was a pause as if Gabriella was mulling over his apology._

"_Sorry isn't going to bring my shirt back," she said frostily._

"_Jesus Christ," Troy muttered. He wasn't in the mood for this. _

"_What?"_

"_I said I was sorry," he said through gritted teeth._

"_Sorry isn't going to make things better," Gabriella retorted with equal vexation. _

"_Well what else would you like me to say?" Troy asked with mock politeness._

"_Something useful."_

_Troy decided she didn't deserve a retort. He rolled his eyes and left the room, leaving her alone with her now ruined clothes. Gabriella was momentarily stunned by his departure; she had assumed that tonight would turn into one of those nights where they would shout at each other for hours. _

_When she ventured after him into the living room he already had his shoes on and was searching for his keys. He opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it; Gabriella could tell he wanted to ask if she had seen his keys. _

"_Where are you going?" She asked._

"_Out," came his stoic reply. _

"_Out where?"_

"_Rudy's."_

"_Again?" She said it like he was an alcoholic._

"_Yep."_

"_You don't have to go out," she mumbled. If Troy were feeling less frustrated he may have realised that she was trying to call a truce. _

"_I can't stay here. Not when you're being like this." _

"_Being like what?" Suddenly she was angry again._

"_Unreasonable." _

"_I'm not being unreasonable," Gabriella said as if the idea were being truly unthinkable. _

"_I apologised for an honest mistake-" Troy began but Gabriella quickly cut him off._

"_An honest mistake?"_

"_And you threw it back in my face. I'd say you're being unreasonable," he continued, completely ignoring her._

"_You think fucking up my clothes is an honest mistake?"_

"_Well they're not entirely un-wearable," Troy said defensively._

"_You are unbelievable."_

"_And you're unreasonable."_

"_Why do you always do that?" Gabriella asked, sounding almost exasperated. _

"_What?"_

"_Act like nothing's your fault."_

"_I never said it wasn't my fault. I've already apologised," Troy said triumphantly as if Gabriella had the wrong end of the stick and therefore made him some kind of winner. _

"_But you're acting like I'm overreacting."_

"_That's because you are! A shirt, a couple of t-shirts and a few dresses? It's not exactly the end of the world." _

"_Well of course not, but if that stupid hoodie was ruined or any of your clothes then it's the fucking apocalypse. If I did the same thing I'd never hear the end of it," Gabriella exploded._

"_Yeah okay, I'd be slightly mad, but I wouldn't be going all psycho."_

"_I am not going psycho!" she protested._

"_Yes you are! You always are! Every little thing I do and you're there, shouting and screaming and doing that stupid glare thing."_

"_But it's not little things. You're always fucking things up. I can't even trust you to run to the shop and buy…bread or milk or something like that. Of course if I ask you to buy alcohol then it's an entirely different matter."_

"_Okay again with the cryptic insults." Troy was getting more and more frustrated._

"_You're a stupid, vapid narcissistic fuck up," she said simply. _

"_Well you're a cold-hearted, over reacting psychotic bitch who thinks she's so smart just because she got into Stanford and can use words that she knows other people don't understand just to make herself look smarter," Troy retorted. _

_There was a brief silence as each processed what the other had said. They had never told each other the 'cons' of the other's personality. They had, of course, alluded to it in a number of their recent arguments but never had they been particularly explicit. There were tears in Gabriella's eyes but Troy refused to feel guilty. She called him vapid and even if he was going to have to look it up later, he knew it was an insult. _

_She would start screaming in a minute, and Troy knew he would be dragged into another long argument if he stuck around much longer. Forgoing his keys, Troy headed for the front door. _

"_Don't you dare leave," Gabriella said venomously, the tears had already started to pour. If he had not been so angry, Troy was sure he would have been scared. He went ahead and opened the front door anyway. _

"_I said-" she began but Troy cut her off with a cruelly blasé dismissal._

"_Fuck off."_

_**END FLASHBACK**_

"I want us to be like before," Troy announced, "before all the arguments and relationship crap."

"You mean when we were dating?"

"Before that."

"When I first moved to Albuquerque?"

"Yep!"

"You mean with all the sexual tension and denial of feelings and then constant pondering over whether the other felt the same way?" Gabriella asked sceptically. Troy frowned.

"Maybe not exactly like that," he agreed, "more like the part where we got on really well and it was like we'd known each other our whole lives. Y'know, kindergarten."

"You mean you want us to be friends?" Gabriella asked with a smile.

"That's the one!"

"Well…sure. Why not?"


	8. Chapter 8

"I swear it was here somewhere!"

Gabriella rolled her eyes as the woman in front of her let out a theatrical sigh and continued to rummage through her papers as if she were searching properly.

"I can't seem to find it," the woman turned to face Gabriella with a shrug and a pout. Gabriella gave her a tight-lipped smile – she _really_ hated the girls up at fashion.

"That's the fifth receipt this month," Gabriella said lightly though both knew she was irritated.

"I know and I'm sorry! Just…file it under miscellaneous."

"I can't just file fifteen hundred dollars under miscellaneous, they'll want to know exactly what you brought."

"It was just stuff…totally necessary stuff," Scarlet promised with wide eyes.

Gabriella rose one eyebrow and looked at the leather tote propped up on Scarlet's desk, "I'm sure it was."

Gabriella knew better than to push the subject. When she first started as an accountant at the Albuquerque Observer she had given 110 percent. She would pour over spreadsheets for hours, making sure everything added up and chasing up every discrepancy. Eventually she realized that it didn't matter if staff blew their budgets on unnecessary luxuries: if they were able to produce a decent selling newspaper then as far as the editor in chief was concerned, staff could do whatever they wanted. Gabriella was only running after hidden receipts because she wasn't sure how much longer she could play solitaire before she would explode.

The quiet chatter and laughter of the office was disturbed by a high-pitched scream. In an instant everyone in the room, bar Gabriella, had gathered around a desk at the other end of the room. The people in the room launched into 'oh my god's and squeals of excitement.

She had seen that reaction a hundred times over and knew exactly what it meant - there was a celebrity in the building.

Gabriella rolled her eyes and headed for the lift; it was time to slink back to her desk and play more solitaire.

* * *

Gabriella was disappointed but not surprised to find that the excitement had spread to her own department. The second she entered the room she heard the excited babble of her boss, even though there was a wall separating them. She took a seat at her desk, tuning out the conversations around her.

Once upon a time she would have been a bit more excited at the prospect of a famous face gracing the building, but the events of Sunday had put her in a bad mood. Troy hadn't said exactly said what he had been thinking but it had been strikingly obvious.

He didn't want her to get married.

Gabriella had already weighed up the odds that he was still in love with her and decided it was impossible. Seven years without any attempt at contact? He had probably forgotten all about her until she sent him that letter. He probably had some irrational fear of being replaced. Troy would have realized that he was no longer her one and only, and with that irritating desire to be loved by everybody, decided he couldn't allow himself to be replaced as that special someone, even if she no longer meant anything to him.

Troy _had_ always wanted what he couldn't have or didn't need.

There was also the matter of what divorce and being such a high profile celebrity, if Troy hadn't deluded himself into thinking Gabriella was after his millions then he had probably decided a secret marriage would destroy his supposed relationship with that actress that Gabriella kept reading about.

"D'ya think she's heard?"

"Obviously. Look at her face!"

"We should probably keep her busy, she might try and attack him."

"Don't be stupid, Gabriella would never do something like that."

"You sure about that? She hates that guy! Don't you see the look on her face every time someone mentions his name."

"Yeah! And what about that time we brought her that calendar - I think she burnt it."

It took Gabriella a while to realize her co-workers were all whispering about her. They were huddled in a group around the printer - which just so happened to be a few feet away from her desk - and staring at her. She stared back.

"What?" she asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Julia, her least favourite, said quickly. Gabriella narrowed her eyebrows.

"Have you, er, checked your email lately?" Ethan, by far her favourite, asked. Of all the people in the building, Ethan was the only one Gabriella would gladly associate with outside of work. It did help that he was an ex-east high student and had been with her on the scholastic decathlon team. Gabriella knew it was pathetic that she didn't have a lovely cluster of friends at work and hated pretty much all of her co-workers but she was beyond the point of caring.

"Why?" she asked. The cluster looked away.

Gabriella was checking her email in an instant. She scanned her inbox carefully. Pitiful excuses for missing receipts, notices of upcoming meetings, uninteresting forwards from Julia and a message from… Georgina Isaacs?

Georgina Isaacs headed the surprisingly popular gossip and entertainment section. Tentatively, Gabriella opened the email.

_**From: **_

_**Subject: **__The Facts!_

_**Date:**__ 27th July 2009 11:38:08 MDT_

_**To: **__All_

_Ladies and Gents, the rumours are true. Troy Bolton is in the building!_

Gabriella stopped reading. She looked over at her co-workers who had all been watching her earnestly. Upon seeing her look their way they all dispersed and headed to their respective workstations. Her eyes briefly met with Ethan who gave her a sympathetic smile. Gabriella turned her attention back to the computer.

_He was spotted entering the building at approx. 11.30 dressed in dark rinse jeans, classic addidas and white graphic t-shirt (make unknown). He's not scheduled to meet with anyone but GG predicts an impromptu meeting with Athlete magazine._

_GG promises to keep you posted_

_GG_

_X_

A small box appeared on the screen, stealing Gabriella's moment to reflect on Georgina's inane habit of referring to herself in the third person. It announced another email from 'GG'; Gabriella opened it without hesitation.

_**From: **_

_**Subject: **__Update on Bolton_

_**Date:**__ 27th July 2009 11:42:08 MDT_

_**To: **__All_

_He's headed to Accounting - lucky bitches! Don't quite know what he wants with the calc crew but GG promises to find out!_

_GG_

_X_

Gabriella heard an indignant cry of 'hey' - no one in accounting liked being called the calculator crew - but it was quickly overshadowed by a buzz of confused excitement.

"Oh my god!"

"Julia you sound like one of the girls from upstairs…"

"What does he want?"

"It must be a mistake. HR's on this floor too, maybe he's heading there."

"Maybe he got my letter!"

"You sent him a letter? Julia…you disgust me."

Gabriella ignored her co-worker's babble. There was a sick churning in her stomach: she had to get out. Of course he would pull a stunt like this, hadn't she agreed to be his friend? She replayed their conversation in her head as she shoveled her belongings into her bag; she thought he had miraculously matured in the space of 24 hours and was proposing a truce, knowing him he probably thought she had agreed to become his new BFF.

She pushed her chair out from her desk and stood up, paying no attention to the intrigued looks of those around her.

"Tell the boss I wasn't feeling too good," she mumbled to no one in particular. At that moment Gabriella knew that fate - or something like that - was out to get her, for as she opened the door Troy was standing on the other side.

The shock on his face at having the door fly open before he could touch it was quickly replaced with a bright smile.

"Hey Gabi!" Troy said enthusiastically, pulling Gabriella into a bear hug before she could run for the hills.

"Hi," she mumbled, untangling herself from his grip, "What…what are you doing here?"

If Troy was bothered by her lack of enthusiasm he didn't show it, instead continuing in his chipper tone.

"When's your next break, I'm taking you to lunch, " he declared before suddenly taking in the bag slung over her shoulder, "you having lunch now?"

"No. I'm just…" Gabriella trailed off. If she told Troy she was sick he would probably insist on taking her home. She made a quick calculation: if he had a car then it would be twenty minutes tops of awkward conversation. If he didn't then they would have to get a bus or a taxi, which added a further ten to fifteen minutes onto the journey. Gabriella had just decided a journey this long would kill her when Julia _kindly _stepped in.

People on the building often assumed that the 'calculator crew' (as they had been affectionately dubbed by GG) lacked the ability to empathize even slightly with others. Something about working with numbers forced the idea that they were not very good at social interaction.

Once again GG and her cronies had been proven wrong.

"Gabriella, you forgot the list!"

Gabriella couldn't decide whether she wanted to hug or disembowel Julia at that moment.

"Coffee run," she explained to Troy through gritted teeth. Now she could cover up her failed escape attempt with a vaguely believable story, but also buy coffee for everyone. Troy's eyebrows rose as Julia tottered over brandishing a large, heart shaped post-it note.

"Café Mocha, no cream," Julia said with a smirk as she handed the note over. Gabriella grudgingly accepted it and stalked out the door.

The coffee run was always considered the rightful duty of the newest addition to the accounting team which meant that every morning Julia would have to collect her co-workers orders and run to the Starbucks around the corner. It was a job that never got easier considering the orders changed daily.

No one in accounting was quite sure why they all felt the need to pick a different drink every day. According to Marcus, Gabriella's irritatingly genial colleague, it was their way of rebelling against everyone's preconceptions of the safe and rather un-spontaneous calculator crew.

* * *

"So when's your lunch break?"

Gabriella grit her teeth. Troy's thoughtful silence as he followed her out the building had caused her to momentarily forget he was even there.

"About an hour," she mumbled back.

"Cool. So you remember that pizza place we used to go after rehearsals? It's still there!" Troy gushed.

"I know."

"You wanna go there?" He asked warily, picking up on Gabriella's lack of enthusiasm.

Gabriella knew exactly what he was trying to do. After most evening rehearsals for their final high school musical, the couple plus anyone else who cared to join them would head to a small pizza parlour a few minutes away from East High. He probably thought that if he flooded her with memories of her happy wildcat days she would remember how she used to feel about him.

Wrong.

"Well?" Troy prompted when she didn't respond.

"Actually I have a ton of work to do. I'm actually gonna have to eat at work today, y'know, so I can work through your lunch break," Gabriella said with as much genuine regret as she could muster.

"You're going to willingly work through lunch?"

"Uh huh, at least if I want to finish work for five…which I do."

Troy didn't look convinced by her act so Gabriella stepped it up a notch, throwing her hands around and suddenly speaking much faster. Apparently she did that a lot when she was stressed.

"There's just so much to do! The reports are due for tomorrow, but we're nowhere near ready. Everyone in the building is being really unhelpful by not saving all their receipts and refusing to admit what they're spending their budget on. And then I've been asked to lead the rest of the team in finding ways to make everything at the paper more cost efficient but of course no one is accepting our ideas and making everything really difficult for us. I mean, is it really that hard to-"

"Whoa…okay. Lunch in the canteen, I get it," said Troy, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

The pair stepped through the doors of Starbucks, joining the long and slow queue.

"So what's this canteen food like?

* * *

Canteen food sucked.

Gabriella surveyed the canteen's offerings, feeling less and less hungry by the second. She had always thought crappy food was regulated to schools, hospitals and prisons, something to do with tight budgets and victims being powerless to make any changes. She hadn't realized mystery meat would haunt her for pretty much the rest of her life.

Troy looked similarly unimpressed with the canteen's offerings. She couldn't stop the smile creeping on her face as she remembered his indifference to East High's lukewarm grease.

_Food is food_ he would mumble with a mouthful of chips that had obviously not been 'freshly fried'.

"You eat here?" he asked skeptically, clearly remembering her preference for packed lunch in high school.

"When I have to," she mumbled, wondering if being taken out to lunch with a very wealthy celebrity would really have been so painful. The smile widened as she watched him eye the menu disdainfully, struggling to match the labels with the foods they claimed to be. Life in LA had clearly raised his standards. That and everyone was watching him like a hawk.

"You wanna order a pizza?" she offered, not quite sure what was possessing her to make such a suggestion. Troy looked a little surprised, she had, after all, spent the trip to starbucks and back shooting down his attempts at conversation.

"God yes."


End file.
